


New Beginnings

by prettyface_lonelyheart



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Polyandry, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-06-17 12:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15461364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyface_lonelyheart/pseuds/prettyface_lonelyheart
Summary: Two women, ten men, and one hundred Nazi scalps. [This story will now be updated under the name "New Beginnings (edit)"]





	1. Assembling the Basterds

**Author's Note:**

> A retelling of the Basterds' hunt for Nazis with the addition of a female sharpshooter and field nurse.

"Ashley," Colonel Lewis approached a nurse with tanned skin and long, dark hair pulled up in a bun.

In response, the nurse, who was on her way back to her cabin, stood at attention. "Sir."

Once the colonel nodded in acknowledgement, he waved his hand, motioning for her to follow him.

He must have noticed her holding her breath as they walked, because he glanced at her and said, "Nothing to be worried about. In fact, I think this just might peak your interest."

This was comforting, however the uncertainty of the situation was still daunting.

She was lead into his office, the middle of which she stood while the door was being closed behind her as well as the colonel.

A man who appeared to be about a little less than six feet tall was leaning against the window ledge behind the desk. He had straight, brown hair that was parted at the right side of his temple as well as a mustache. He appeared to have a scar around his neck. He got on his feet, keeping his hands folded behind his back.

She swore she caught a glimpse of a smirk upon meeting her eyes.

"Corporal Aria Ashley, this is Lieutenant Aldo Raine," Lewis spoke after what felt like a delayed break in the silence that surrounded them.

By this time, the lieutenant made his way around to the front of the desk and put his hand out towards her.

She took it in a handshake and gave him a small smile.

"Pleased to meet you," he spoke in a southern accent.

Aria didn't know what to say, as she didn't even know the purpose of the meeting. So settled with a nod and, thankfully, Colonel Lewis took the floor again.

"Now the reason I brought you in today is because Lieutenant Raine is assembling a special unit, much like the one you have been training with. The exception for this team, however, is that, unlike dealing with one hundred or so men, there will be around ten to fifteen, at most," he explained.

This  _was_  beginning to sound like something that seemed worth looking into.

The colonel continued. "After sifting through several files for potential recruits, you have been selected to join this unit. Seeing as how you've trained with the same group of men for some time, we understand bonds may have been formed already—"

Aria wanted to snort. If anything, she felt her relationship with those men was the exact opposite. She often felt alienated, possibly due to her awkward and soft-spoken nature. The other nurses were friendly to her, yet she felt something separated them; like she wasn't good enough. Needless to say, when she'd found out she had made it to the top of her class, she felt like she had  _something_  going for her. It wasn't number one, but it was something, right?

The size appealed to her as well. She craved intimacy, and working with a smaller group sounded like a perfect opportunity to get to know others better.

While she had only known Lieutenant Raine for five minutes at most, she had a good feeling about him. Just by the way he stood in front of her—tall with his hands on his hips—he came off as someone who was sure of himself, someone who was efficient in his role as a leader. There might be some arrogance in there, but how would she know if she didn't join?

"I accept," she interjected, turning her attention towards the higher ranking man.

Colonel Lewis blinked and tilted his head to the side, not quite buying her response. "Well, we both figured we would give you some time to think about it..."

"I have a good feeling about this," Aria said, a wave of confidence coursing through her veins now. "When do I start?"

From her peripheral vision, she saw the lieutenant smile wider.

* * *

There was a knock at Colonel Lewis's door, bringing his attention to the visitor.

"Enter," he called to the person on the other side of the wood and glass.

A lean man with black, neatly trimmed hair stepped into the office and saluted the colonel, who had risen and done the same.

"Sir," the man spoke in a deep voice. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," Lewis motioned to another man sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Corporal Wilhelm Wicki, this is Lieutenant Aldo Raine."

Aldo stood up and shook hands with Wicki, who greeted him with a slight nod.

"Lieutenant Raine is putting together a team under the 1st Special Service Force. You will be heading to Europe and seeing that you are fluent in German, he has chosen you as a translator," said the colonel.

Immediately fascinated, Wicki's brows flew up his forehead. He turned back to Lieutenant Raine and nodded.

"I'm interested," he states. "However, while I'm in no position to do so, I would like to recommend another soldier."

"Sure. Who'd you have in mind?" Lieutenant Raine asked.

"Sergeant Chase Warren," Wicki replied, without skipping a beat.

The highest ranking man in the room let out a gust of air in the form of a dry laugh and shook his head in disbelief. "Now, Corporal—"

Wicki saw the confusion in Raine's eyes and mentally hoped to himself that what he was thinking would happen won't. He just met the lieutenant and didn't know how he'd react when that confusion is cleared. 

While he had the chance, he jumped in.

"Sir, with all due respect," Wicki put a fist over his mouth and cleared his throat. "She is a gifted sharpshooter—"

"Wait, ' _she_ '?" a set of lines formed on the lieutenant's forehead when his brows came together. 

_Well, this was it_ , Wicki thought to himself.

But he could still try one last time to convince him.

"Yes, s-she is a gifted sharpshooter..." Wicki repeated while his mind searched for more to say. "She is also fluent in four languages: German, Italian, French, and Spanish. Should something happen to me, you won't be without a translator."

There was some silence between all three. Colonel Lewis looked between the two to determine Lieutenant Raine's response.

The latter pursed his lips, looking deep in thought, and turned to the colonel. "I'd like to see Sergeant Warren's file."

Wicki smiled proudly, more for his friend than himself. 


	2. Just Another Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I set the whole story as having "graphic depictions of violence", the brief moment in this chapter will be one of very few of those cases, as I suck at writing action scenes.

From a hilltop, overlooking a gravel road, Chase lay low and propped her rifle up, keeping an eye on any incoming German troops. Aria was next to her, lying in the same position, only she clutched the strap of her satchel under her chin with anticipation.

The Basterds were on lower ground, obscured by the trees and piles of leaves.

“How long has it been?” Aria whispered. “Feels like we’ve been here for hours.”

Keeping her eyes trained through the scope, Chase answered in a hush tone, “Well according to the map we found at that shack those Germans were at, there should of been a...”

She stopped talking when she saw a Kübelwagen come into view. Once it reached the middle of the road, she shot at the back tire to immobilize it. 

The four or soldiers in the vehicle jumped in their seats, hands on their helmets, and looked around for the cause of the bang. After the driver's attempts to accelerate, the truck came to a stop. There was chattering going on amongst the group as they got out. They couldn't even step away to survey the truck as the Basterds emerged from their concealed positions, guns drawn.

Aria was about to stand up once all the occupants of the truck were killed, but Chase put her hand on her wrist to prevent her from moving further.

"Wait, let's wait a little longer. There might be more coming," she told the nurse who complied.

Not long after, a Krupp Protze truck rolled in.

This time, Chase successfully took the driver out with a bullet through his head, causing the car to swerve.

While the passengers in the Protze had already started firing at the Basterds, the latter efficiently executed the enemy, coming out mostly unscathed. Private Sakowitz got shot on his right leg and stumbled back. 

Aria sprung into action, rolling backwards to the end of the bottom of the hill and getting on her feet before running to where the men were.

There was only one German left alive, but he stopped firing when he saw the red cross on her armband.

"Alright, let's see what we have here," she kneeled beside him and looked at the hole in his pant leg.

The bullet was lodged between the fabric of his pants and the leather exterior of his boot.

Sakowitz winced when she unknowingly squeezed his leg, just above the wound.

"Sorry, Simon," she said quickly and let go.

Aria wasted no time in digging out her tweezers and pulling out the bullet.

Meanwhile, the surviving German was held at gunpoint by Private Gerold Hirschberg.

Aldo sat on a log across from them.

“Englisch?” he asked the German sergeant.

When he got a head shake in response, the lieutenant called Wicki over.

“Ask him if he knows who we are,” the lieutenant ordered.

Wicki looked at the sergeant and asked, “Weißt du wer wir sind?”

“J-Ja,” he responded.

“Who are we?” Aldo put his hands together and leaned in towards the prison, his elbows resting on his thighs.

Wicki promptly translated, yielding a response dripping with not only fear, but shame:

“Die Basterds.”

This made Aldo, Wicki, and Hirschberg smile.

“Here’s the deal: we’re gonna let you go,” Aldo began.

“Wir werden dich gehen lassen,” Wicki tells the sergeant.

There was a sense of relief in the German’s eyes. That didn’t last long when he noticed Aldo and Wicki exchanging knowing smirks.

“Before we do, we need to do two things.”

“Bevor wir es tun, müssen wir zwei Dinge tun.”

“One: when you get back to your superiors, you gotta tell ‘em exactly what happened here and you gonna tell ‘em that that—“ Aldo stops and leans to his side a bit, pointing with a thumb back over his shoulder at the other Basterds scalping the dead soldiers, “—is gonna happen to every single Nazi we find. Got that?” 

“Zuerst melden Sie sich bei Ihren Vorgesetzten. Sagen Sie ihnen, dass dies für jeden Nazi passieren wird,” Wicki states and tilts his head towards the same direction. “Ist das clar?”

The sergeant gulped and nodded, his eyes going from his dead comrades back to the two men right in front of him. 

“Two: I’m gonna assume now that we’re lettin’ you go, you’re gettin’ rid of that uniform after the war, ain’t you?”

“Jetzt, wo wir dich gehen lassen. Du wirst die Uniform loswerden, ja?”

“J-Ja,” the sergeant replied. “Ich will nichts damit zu tun haben.”

Wicki smirked and looked to Aldo. “Says he doesn’t want anything to do with it after the war.”

“Yeah, that’s what we thought,” Aldo sat up straight, keeping his eyes on the sergeant. “But you take that uniform off, ain’t nobody gonna know you’s a Nazi and that don’t sit well with us.” 

“Wenn du die Uniform ausziehst, wird niemand wissen, dass du ein Nazi bist. Das mögen wir nicht.” 

“So I'm gonna give you a little something you can't take off," Aldo took his knife off his belt and held it up in front of the German's cowering face.

* * *

 "Looks like this is our place for the night," Aldo stated after taking a whiff of his tobacco-coated fingers.

Before the group was a small, two-story house. It looked vacant enough, but they knew better than to make that assumption, regardless of their being in the middle of nowhere in the woods.

"We could just keep walking..." Private Omar Ulmer suggested and added a hesitant "maybe" when he saw Privates Andy Kagan and Smithson Utivich giving him a questioning look.

It was around the early hours of the evening and they needed a place to sleep. Chances of finding another building before the sun finally sets ran from slim to none. Plus, after taking down three enemy squads earlier that day, everyone preferred to settle in somewhere after clearing the room in one go. While securing a spot when it's dark out is doable, it came with the added risk of missing an enemy lurking about.

"Fuck that," Chase scoffed. "We may never find another place and just end up sleeping outside."

"And that's why I'm gonna need y'all to clear that building," Aldo interrupted before the matter could be further debated. "Donny, take Chase with you. Wicki go with Omar. Aria go with Utivich. Sakowitz go with Kagan. And Hirschberg take Zimmerman." 

They split into their assigned pairs and spread out of both sides of the house, under the windows. Wicki, being first in line coming from the right, kicked the door open. Omar pointed his gun towards the interior. When all was clear, he nodded his head to the side. The other line of Basterds, led by Sergeant Donny Donowitz and Chase, went in, with the first pair making their way to the room all the way to the front of the house. Behind them, Utivich went into the adjacent room with Aria following behind, nervously clutching the Lüger she'd nabbed. The rest filed in accordingly. 

Everyone jumped in their spots when shots were fired from the room Donny and Chase had been in. While two Germans used some overturned furniture for cover, Chase leaned towards the edge of a parallel wall, stuck the barrel of her rifle out and shot at one of them who'd peaked his head out. For a minute or two, neither side shot at the other.

Donny caught sight of the surviving soldier attempting to sneak up on them. Just enough light from outside casted a shadow throw the window, revealing where the enemy had moved to: he was pressed up against the other side of the wall and getting closer. It seems he realized he was spotted and tried minimizing his presence by crouching down so the light didn't hit him. 

Right when the German rounded the corner, Donny pointed his gun and pulled the trigger, but it only clicked.

"Fuck!" he hissed.

Thankfully, the other man had hesitated long enough, probably due to fear, that Donny threw thrusted the scope's end forward, knocking the soldier to the floor.

It all happened so fast that Chase hadn't anticipated shooting him herself, but by the time she had the chance to act, Donny seemed to take control of the situation again anyway. That wasn't the only thing she didn't expect.

Once the offending man had hit the gravely floor, Donny tossed his weapon aside and picked up a table leg that was lying by the piles of propped up furniture. The last thing Donny saw before bringing the leg down was the soldier's expression of pure fear: eyes widened, hands up, and the corners of his mouth dragged downwards, bearing his bottom teeth.  

Chase heard a loud crack and peered around the corner. Her jaw dropped as she watched Donny bring the thick, long object down repeatedly over the man's head, as if he were a lumberjack taking his ax to chunks of wood on a tree stump. As a result of the beating, the floor surrounding the body was splattered with blood.

Donny stood up straight again and was breathing heavily as he surveyed the caved in skull of the man before him. He dropped the table leg by his side, letting it fall with a thud, and turned around. For a second, he too exhibited fear when he met eyes with Chase, who stood motionless and shocked by what she'd just witnessed.

_"What the fuck just came over me? Shit, she's totally fucking scared of me now, isn't she?"_  ran through his brain as he stood there in his blood covered clothes, some having been smeared on his face. 

His eyes were wide, bushy eyebrows up, and lips parted in an attempt to say something.

A smile formed across her face before she let out a "whoa".

"You like that, huh?" Donny smirked.

Omar popped his head in the room. 

"Hey, is the room clear or what?" he looked between the two, then saw the dead body a few feet away.

He looked from the body to Donny.

"What the hell happened to you?" Omar questioned.

"All clear," Donny simply stated, giving him a nod. 


	3. A Gift From Home

 "Is it weird I found it kinda... I don't know... arousing?"

"Um,  _yes_ ," Aria replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"It was a Nazi, though," Chase turned her head to the side to face the nurse.

"I know, but it's still weird!" Aria shuddered.

Chase laughed and blew at a loose strand of light, brown hair hanging over her eye.

"You and Donny seem to be hitting it off, not to mention you have Wicki by your side..." Aria half-smiled.

"We're not officially together, I don't think," Chase shrugged. "I think he likes me though. Which would be some sort of blessing, because I like him."

Aria groaned and looked up at the sky from where she lay under the window. She saw nothing but a navy blue blanket and some specks of white here and there. When she was younger, she heard somewhere that stars can signal new beginnings. Over the years, she thought that maybe she had mixed up the idea of the "light at the end of the tunnel" and made a new saying. Wherever she heard it from, she didn't know if it was true. The only thing that started, to her knowledge, was the beginning of their trek through France. It's been a good couple of months, but she had the feeling this was only the start of whatever lies ahead.

"You're so lucky, then. Not only are you friends with at least one of the men already, but another one likes you. Even in a group consisting of nine men, I can't get one's attention," she shook her head at the ceiling before looking over at Chase from the corner of her eye. "And you say you're unlikeable."

"One of them likes you. Trust me on that," Chase said as Aria closed her eyes. 

"That's such bullshit."

"I'm serious! I'll even tell you who."

"No you won't. You know why? Cus it's neither of them!"

The two fell silent, causing the nurse to open her right eye to look at Chase, who was now lying on her side. Her head tilted onto her hand, which was held up by her elbow on her pillow. A sly grin was plastered across her face.

She leaned in towards Aria and whispered. "It's the Lieutenant."

"You're ridiculous," the nurse, with her eye now closed, mumbled.

"No, I'm right," Chase lay on her back again. "I've seen the way he looks at you. He even said some good things about you."

"And what good things are there to say about a nurse who scored the third-highest at the top of her class? She can tell the difference between a knife and a scalpel?"

"No. Like she's caring and she looks out for the men."

"Oh yeah? And when did he say that?"

"When we set up camp one time and he heard you asking Sakowitz how his leg was and you were changing the dressing because it got wet from when it rained earlier that day." 

"Then Lieutenant Raine must have some really low standards if he's interested in someone who is, not only ugly, but simply does her job."  

"Well whether or not it's him. I guarantee at least one of the Basterds likes you."

This time, Aria turned her head to look at Chase.

"Sergeant Chase Warren: sharpshooter, translator, pathological liar."

Chase shoved Aria's side, making the latter break out in a fit of laughter.

* * *

 "Look what I got," he approached her with a long cardboard box, a huge smile on his face.

The corner of one side was covered in stamps from Boston, Massachusetts.

"A gift from home?" she smiled and eyed the size of the parcel, wondering what could possibly be in it.

"I made a... special request to my folks," he nodded and took a knife under the flaps.

He opened the box and pulled out a baseball bat with one hand, the other on the handle when it was completely out of its cardboard confines.

It was a big and heavy wooden bat with some writing on it. Upon closer inspection, Chase could see that they were names. Some of them were just first names, like Madeleine and Norman. Others included last names too, such as Marty Horowitz and Lucille Mehlberg.

"I told my brother to get me the heaviest bat he could find and ask our Jewish neighbors and friends to write the name of any loved ones in Europe who are in danger," Donny explains, watching Chase read all the names on the bat's surface.

There was a part of it that caught her eye: a space about two inches long and half an inch wide that was left untouched ink or carving. For a minute, she thought maybe this was where a sticker was placed, possibly a price tag.

She looked up to see he was holding a black marker between them.

 "I asked my brother to leave it like that, because I wanted you to sign it," he met her gaze and rolled the marker between his fingers.  

Chase opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't.

"I mean, you don't have to..." Donny hastily added and lowered both the bat and marker. "It's—"

"No, Donny. I'd love to," her eyes widened, fearing she'd hurt his feelings. "But I'm... not Jewish." 

His fallen grin was resurrected in the form of a more nervous expression, rather than the earlier one of joy.

"Oh, I know," he said. "It's just I wanted you to sign, because... I wanted to show that I'm fighting for you, too."

"Why me?"

"Well... I like you, Chase."

Neither said a word until she put her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed and stepped back to face him again, her hands on his upper arms. "Donny, I like you too!"

When she said this, his cheeks turned bright pink and he gave her a sheepish grin before looking down at the bat.

"Here, let me," she took the marker and screwed the cap off while he held his new weapon up, blank surface up.

* * *

 “He was all like, ‘I wanted you to sign, because I wanted to show I’m fighting for you too’!” Chase jumped ecstatically where she stood.

“That’s great. It’s a dream come true,” Aria smiled a little.

She wasn’t surprised. They’ve basically had their eyes on each other since the first debriefing, prior to D-Day. That didn’t mean she wasn’t sad, though.

The loneliness was setting in deeper knowing that Donny wasn't the only one who liked Chase. She took note of several times Wicki was in good spirits with Chase, only to have that shot down when Donny joined them. 

"You'll find yours someday," Aria felt a light squeeze on her shoulder, followed by the sound of faint footsteps.

If only people stopped telling her that when it simply wasn't going to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I changed Donny's origin story with the bat a little bit, but I tried keeping as much in the original as possible!


	4. Equal Duties

Aldo walked between the corpses while the privates scalped the now-slain members of the squad they'd ambushed. He saw Aria squatting by one of the Germans, scalpel in hand and a look of disgust and reluctance on her face.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, so she looked up at her CO standing behind her.

"Come 'ere," he tipped his head a bit to the side and smiled. "I wanna talk to you real quick."

The nurse stood and looked back at the rest of the men, about to let them know a body was up for grabs. She decided against it a second later, thinking whoever spots it first will claim it.

On her way to where Aldo had directed her, Chase looked up from her work and smirked at her friend.

"Everything good, Lieutenant?" Aria asked, tucking her scalpel back into her bag.

He turned around to face Aria and took a few steps closer to where she stood.

"I'm putting you off scalping duty permanently," Aldo sniffed and swiped his nostrils with the knuckle of his index finger.

While she was relieved, Aria was also confused as to why he had done this. From the beginning, when they were all lined up and given the big speech about what they were going to be doing in France, the lieutenant made it clear that she and Chase, being the only women in the group, were to be treated as equals. She assumed this meant they would be having the same duties as the men.

She'd always believed that until this moment, which would have marked her first time scalping. The situation usually played out in two different ways. The men usually swarmed the dead Germans like flies on pieces of meat once a temporary prisoner was taken, and since these units were small, there was one for each member of the Basterds. Those times, Aria didn't protest to having her share of the 'fun'. In the remaining cases, she was too busy tending to any injuries they acquired during their exchange with the enemy to consider bagging a scalp for herself.

"Are you sure, sir?" Aria folded her hands behind her back and looked down shyly. "I mean, I don't mean to question your orders, sir. It's just I was under the impression that we were all performing under the same duties."

Now that she thought about it, it sounded as if she was begging him to allow her to partake in this and, while she didn't want to, at the same time, she also didn't want any backlash from the others for being given a pass.

He gave her an amused smile, seemingly impressed with her response. "Well... the way I see it, your duty is to fix us up when we get hit. Right?" 

Aria nodded, taking one hand from behind her and using her fingers to brush some loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Right, sir."

"'Sides, I think you did enough today. Why don't you take a break while I go talk to Jerry over there," he glanced at the prisoner, then back to the woman in front of him.

Again, she nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

She didn't hear a response before she went on her way to the base of an oak tree, so she assumed she either spoke too quietly or turned away too soon while she said her parting words, or even both. She didn't pay any mind to it, however, and just sat down, leaning her back against the tree trunk and closing her eyes as a breeze blew under the yellow canopies above.

Aldo had watched her walk away with her head bowed. From where he stood, he saw her brushing the same strands of hair behind her ear which has presumably fallen back over her cheek due to her looking down. It hadn't even occurred to him that she said anything. He was too caught up in her timid aura.

He hadn't even noticed he was smiling so wide at her until he heard Donny call him.

"You coming, Lieutenant?"

Broken from his reverie, Aldo exhaled and spun 90 degrees to the left on the heel of his boot. "Yeah, I'm comin'."

* * *

 "What is that grin for now?" Aria groaned at Chase. "Don't tell me it's something Donny said, I swear to God—"

"I knew it! I was right, okay? Just say it!" Chase said, triumphantly. "Aldo likes you!"

"He lets me sit out for fifteen minutes, big deal," Aria scoffed.

"And he says you don't have to scalp any of those sons of bitches," Chase adds, pointing her mess kit spoon at the nurse, who sat across from her at their own campfire.

Aria shrugs and scrapes at the bottom of her cup with her utensil, scooping up the last of her stew. "But he does have a point: I'm just taking care of you and the men when you get hurt." 

"What's wrong with him anyway?" Chase asks, fidgeting with the spoon between her thumb and index finger. "I mean, why are you denying what's in front of you? Is he not a good guy to you?"

"Okay, first of all, what you're telling me is based on nothing," Aria rolled her eyes. "You keep saying 'he looks at you this way' and 'he said some good things about you' But, like... that's your perception. He could smile for any reason. He could give any of us praise."

Right before Chase was about to get a word in, Aria continued. "Second, he is our CO. He's someone I respect. Period. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Oh, don't give me the whole 'not mixing work and love' spiel!" Chase burst out into laughter. "Donny and I are becoming a thing and we both treat each other well while working together, so I don't see the harm in it."

"That's great for you, but that doesn't go for everyone," Aria points out. "There are so many awful things about me. I think he would just get fed up once he sees what I'm really like."

"Hey, doll," a voice came from behind Chase.

She turned around and looked up at the man towering over her. "Hey, you!"

Donny smiled wider and bent down to kiss her temple.

This is when Aria stood up and went for one of the shacks they'd found in the area. "Goodnight, Chase."

She heard Chase's giggled "goodnight" in response, probably from Donny doing something to make her laugh. Her back was already facing the pair to know.

Aria rinsed her cup and spoon off with the water from her canteen. She pulled a cloth from her bag and used it to dry them before putting it away with the rest of her mess kit. Once inside her shelter for the night, she made herself comfortable on the floor and tried to push away the feeling of loneliness knowing that, unlike her, her friend has someone to keep her company.


	5. Breakfast with the Basterds

The following morning, the Basterds went into town to wash up and get breakfast, with the help of Chase.

"Merci," Chase said to one server setting down a platter topped with scones.

She repeated this to another, who gave each person at the table their drinks.

The waitress, who provided the beverages, asked Aria, "Voudriez-vous du sucre?"

"Uh..." Aria stuttered, signaling Chase to step in.

"She's asking if you want sugar with your tea," the latter explained.

When Aria nodded, Chase smiled at the waitress and responded with "Oui s'il vous plaît."

By then, everyone had dug into their scones.

Aria picked out a blueberry one for herself and munched off a corner to get a taste for it first.

The server returned with a small pot of sugar and put the saucer it came on beside Aria.

"Merci," the nurse shyly said, before taking out the little spoon from the pot.

She shovelled a spoonful of sugar into her tea and stirred. 

One by one, individuals sporting identical suits and aprons covered the tabletop with slices of cheese, rolls, fruit, and pastries.

The more food was coming in, the slower the men chewed. They eventually stopped and looked at each other, then at Chase, who seemed rather pleased with herself.

Everyone watched as the final server left the dining hall and returned to the kitchen.

All eyes were on the feast before them.

Andy reached for a Danish, but stopped when Aldo put his hands out in front of him. "Wait a second, wait a second... Do any of y'all even have a _single_ franc on ya?"

"Some," Michael reluctantly spoke out, his eyes still on the food.

"What did you even order anyway?" Aldo eyed Chase suspiciously.

Still keeping the same grin on her face, she plucked a grape from the bunch close to her and popped it in her mouth. "I told them the 'Petit déjeuner extravagant'."

"That sounds true and not true at the same time," Donny scrunched his face, showing an effort in analyzing the perceived oxymoron. 

"So how are we going to pay for all this?" Wicki peered over his mug at his best friend before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Oh, I don't know... With _this_?" she shrugged, and then whipped out a brown leather wallet from the inner pocket of Donny's coat, which she was wearing.

When she held it out, Aria and the men could see a black swastika engraved on the front flap.

Chase reached in the slot and pulled out several bills in a fan-like fashion. "I counted them all last night and there's basically enough to buy The Louvre. Okay, maybe not exactly, but like, a single piece of art from there." 

In that instance, Wicki, threw an arm around her shoulders. He looked at Aldo across from them and smiled his toothy smile. "What'd I tell you, Lieutenant? Very efficient and smart, this one!" 

"Aw, Wil, stop it!" she playfully shoved his side with the money still sticking out of the wallet, causing him to unhook his arm from her and pull back with silent laughter.

"You did and I don't regret bringin' her in. Not one damn bit," Aldo moved his head in a way that looked as if his chin was cutting a diagonal line into the air while he raised his eyebrows at the same time. 

"To Chase," Aria raised her teacup.

Everyone else followed suit, took a gulp of their drinks and went to town on the food.

* * *

 "Ugh, I can barely walk," Smithson groaned, following everyone out of the restaurant.

"You needed the bulk anyway," Aldo patted his back. "Grow as big as Donowitz here."

"He wishes," Donny remarked. "Even then he wouldn't be as terrifying as I am."

Chase was the last one out, parting with one of their servers with a wave and a big smile.

"What'd you do? Give them the whole wallet?" Omar joked.

"No, but it took me a while trying to calculate the tip. There were seven of them, after all!" she shoved her hands in her pockets.

Once Aldo did a headcount, he started walking off to the direction they came in from. The others soon followed, heading back to the woods, where they'd hid their gear.

"It was nice while it lasted," he said, and then smirked at a pretty blonde woman passing the group. "But we got a job to do."

A young boy came out of a bookstore, carrying a stack of newspapers. He held them over the top of a newspaper rack and dropped them right in, the stack making a bulk 'plup', before returning back inside.

The front page caught the eyes of the lieutenant, who stopped in his tracks and picked up a copy.

 _Der Stürmer_ was printed at the top in a version of the Blackletter font. The headline "Der feige Verräter" was emblazoned in red under a box that detailed the publisher and date of the paper.

A set of photographs stood out the most, consisting of one big portrait akin to a mugshot, illustrating a stone-faced German soldier. To the right was a cluster of 12 pictures, each depicting Germans who appeared to be much higher in ranking. Half wore caps decorated with the Imperial Eagle.

"What's this all about?" Aldo looked over his right shoulder to where Wicki was, passing him the newspaper.

Wicki did a quick scan of the page before summing up the article with the subheading. "Says this guy here, the so-called 'Cowardly Traitor'"—he pointed at the big portrait—"Under Field Sergeant Hugo Stiglitz killed 13 German officers."

Immediately, everyone was interested, their eyebrows going up their foreheads in shock and confusion, especially since the Sergeant looked like every other soldier they've encountered.

"He's a German, ain't he? Why'd he do it?" Aldo wondered aloud, hands on hips and squinting at Stiglitz's picture. 

Chase stood on her toes to get a glimpse of the paper over Wicki's shoulder. When he felt her chin on his shoulder, he stepped aside and held the paper out to her so they could both read it. 

"'That international Judaism has always led a hallucinated struggle against everything non-Jewish has once again proved to be the most shameful,'" she read. "'The disgusting international Jewish propaganda expired. The Wermacht's under field sergeant Hugo Stiglitz maltreated figuratively and sneakily 13 worthy Wehrmacht and SS officers.'"

"One officer was strangled, 'a garrote being the most likely weapon'. Another 'sustained multiple stab wounds' all over his face. Oh get this, another was suffocated to death. When his body was found, they found his jaw fucking broken," Chase recoiled in horror.

"So what's that whole thing about Jewish propaganda got to do with this guy?" Smithson asked.

Wicki pointed at a line in one of the paragraphs. "It says here he's a 'Jew-lover'."

"It could be their propaganda," Aria shrugged. "Whether or not that's true, anyway."

"Whatever the reason, this guy's a fucking hero," Donny commented. "Too bad he's probably dead by now."

"Oh no, it says he's being sent to Berlin," Wicki glanced at the date the paper was made. "He's being sent today at a holding cell. 'Die Grube', they call it."

Aldo lifted his head and pursed his lips in thought. Then, he looked at each Basterd, saying, "Y'all thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Before anyone can answer, a smile formed on his face. "We're gettin' us a Nazi killer." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took A LOT of squinting just to translate the first few lines of the newspaper article, so that's how far I was willing to go. So some the parts after the Jewish propaganda were made up on the fly. (The IB Wikia mentions the “Jew-lover” part.) And although I used the original paper for reference, I described the version that appeared in the movie just to keep it consistent!


	6. Goin' Pro

After yet another ambush, the Basterds were able to obtain both directions to and a floor plan of "Die Grube", or "The Pit". 

"The worst offenders were sent there. Torture was not uncommon," Wicki lit a cigarette and leaned back in the passenger seat of the truck they made off with.

He was recounting to the men what their latest survivor had spilled about the place.

"Looks like this shit's gonna be a piece of cake," Sakowitz pointed at the dots on the floor plan, denoting one guard at each of the five entrances.

"That's cus there's only one cell, you moron," Hirschberg leaned over and pointed where the single cell was on the map.

At the back, Aria was wedged between Chase and the right side of the truck. On her lap was her satchel. She held the newspaper on top, studying the words on the front page, which was littered with several instances of “Jude” and “Juden”.

She focused on the photo of Sergeant Hugo Stiglitz. Though his face looked to be absent of any muscle movement, she found it chilling that his natural expression appeared to be that of a natural scowl. His eyes were undoubtedly filled with seething hatred, which is understandable, given that the one to take the photo was most likely a Nazi.

But why did he hate Nazis? What made him hate them so much that he killed respected members of its regime?

"What are you thinking about?"

Aria snapped her head up when she heard Chase's voice.

Looking at the sharpshooter seriously, she asked. "Why do you think he'd do what he did?"

"We're here," Wicki cut into the speculation, making everyone on board fall silent.

* * *

 The top of the dome-shaped structure was visible from where the Basterds stood behind a row of tall hedges obscuring the southwest and southeast entrances.

Since they were a good distance away from the guards outside, they were able to map out their plan in the surrounding woods.

“Alright, Hirschberg, Kagan and Ashley take the northwest tunnel around back,” Aldo instructed, pointing to the top left of the circle on the floor plan.

“Warren, Utivich, and Sakowitz go to the northeast,” his finger made a straight line to the entrance adjacent to the first.

“Omar and Donowitz: southwest. Zimmerman and Wicki: southeast. We should all meet in the middle. Simple enough,” he concluded. “Questions?”

When no one said anything, he rolled up the map and stood up from his crouching position. “Good. Let’s move!” 

The men and women broke up into their designated groups, with those going towards the back entrances stopping every few steps and ducking behind the bushes so as to not give their positions away. They made as little noise as possible so that any rustling of leaves and grass could be attributed to squirrels or other wildlife.

With at least one person keeping a look out for any approaching Germans, another poked the muzzle of their rifle between the branches of the shrubs just enough to aim at the target while being unseen. 

Chase fired her rifle, causing the guard at the northeast entrance to go down with a thud.

While he groaned in agony, another could be heard calling, “Scharfschütze!”

Soon after, each guard was hit before they could even do a quick scope of the view around their outposts.

The Basterds poured out onto the lawn surrounding the complex, then slowly made their way down their tunnels.

Wicki was the first to get to the middle. He slapped a hand over the eyes of an unsuspecting guard, pulling the head back and slitting his throat in one clean swipe. Blood seeped down the guard’s neck and his last breaths were replaced with a sickening gargle.

Once the body fell to the ground, Wicki tossed his knife sideways up in the air and caught it by the handle with a wave of his hand.

Donny came in next, sending another guard through a window behind him with the blast of a sawed-off shotgun. Omar ran past another one who was seated on a bench, reading a copy of Der Stürmer. The paper was torn apart by the man, who held it in front of him while he'd gotten up, but before he could defend himself, he, as well as two other guards, were sent twirling on their feet by the impact of the bullets. Mists of blood and sand lingered in the area in the aftermath of bodies dropping dead and turning over.

In the cell opposite the commotion sat the one dubbed by Julius Streicher as "the cowardly traitor". He took a drag of his cigarette with what limited movement he had of his bound wrists, not once batting an eye at the sudden deaths of those he would have once called friends. 

At that moment, the outfit of Jewish Americans marched into the room from the four tunnels and formed a gate around the cell, prompting the prisoner to squint in slight confusion at the liberators as he breathed out a cloud of smoke. Kagan and Sakowitz left a gap between them, allowing Aldo to step forward from a fifth entrance that was connected to the north tunnels. Aria and Chase stood in place of the gap after Aldo was let in, forming the middle of the "fence". 

Their CO stopped about three feet away from the iron bars, toting an M1 casually under his arm.

"Sergeant Hugo Stiglitz?" he asked with a tilt of his head to the side, meeting him eye to eye.

Stiglitz only nodded in response. 

"Lieutenant Aldo Raine. These are the Basterds," Aldo introduced himself along with his unit, now shifting his weight to his left leg and propping the butt of the rifle over his right thigh so that the barrel pointed up the ceiling. "Ever heard of us?" 

Again, Stiglitz nodded.

"We just wanted to say we're a big fan of your work when it comes to killing Nazis..." Aldo continued.

One of the guards groaned in pain, but was quickly taken care of by Sakowitz, who fired a round at the source of expressed agony. The boom shook the concrete walls, garnering a response from everyone with the exception of Stiglitz, who took another hit of nicotine while waiting for Aldo's proposition.

"I think you show great talent and I pride myself for having an eye for that kind of talent," the lieutenant got closer and leaned beside the cell door, looking off to the side.

"But your status as a Nazi killer is still amateur... We all came here to see if you wanna go pro," he added, throwing Stiglitz a half-smile.

Without a second thought, Stiglitz returned with one long bow of his head followed by a subtler nod, maintaining a straight face the whole time.

"Fantastic," Aldo said in his southern drawl and got back on both his feet. "Our nurse is gonna fix you up before we head out."

Aria felt her cheeks warm when Chase and the men stepped aside to make room for her.


	7. Fix Up

Zimmerman and Sakowitz turned and kicked the guards' bodies until they found the keys to the cell.

"Here," Sakowitz tossed the key ring to Donny, who stood the closest to the door. 

A rusty click emitted from the lock box and Aria's heart pumped faster. While Hugo Stiglitz killed SS officers, it didn't necessarily mean he was free of their ideology. His eyes already burned a hole into the ground in front of him. What more when he sees her up close?

She gulped when she caught him looking at her. Or was it Chase?

Under the labored screech of the cell door bouncing off the brick walls was a soft _jingle, jingle, jingle_ by Aria's ear.

The source of the sound was a set of small, silver keys.

"Wake up, Ashley," Aldo smirked, lowering the keys so she can take them. 

She did so and approached the cell, feeling Hugo's eyes burning holes in her face.

Once she knelt in front of him, Aldo called out to her.

"Fix him up real good, but quickly. We gotta move." 

The eight Jewish soldiers kept watch by each tunnel. The only pair of eyes on Aria was that of Aldo's and Chase's.

With a much cleaner click than the cell door's, the cuffs popped off with the twist of the key.

Setting them aside, she saw the red indents left on Hugo's wrists. _The discomfort was likely the lightest form of torture he'd gone through._  

Under the sleeves of his jacket, she saw more marks a few inches back, possibly scrapes. She disinfected and wrapped them up in bandages.

Aria took note of a cut on his cheek. This one looked newer than the ones she just treated.

"This will sting a little," she meekly told him, immobilized by his cold stare.

He didn't even flinch when she cleaned it up.

She stuck the strip of bandage over the cut and packed up her satchel.

"Alright, let's move!" Aldo waved an arm to gather everyone together.

Aria stood up at the same time as Stiglitz. Even with just a foot difference in height, he seemed more intimidating.

Just as she brought the strap of her bag over her head, adjusting it on her shoulder, he walked pass her to exit the cell.

Amidst the collective thumping of boots over the concrete floor, she could make out a faint whisper.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! I know it's been winter break for, like, two weeks now and I should've released these a long time ago, but I've been having trouble getting started on this again. So for the remainder of December to most of January, I'm back! Like I said, it's taking a bit of time, so I do apologize if these chapters are getting short. I just want to put out what I can before school starts again, plus I'm still working on getting my internship, so I might get sidetracked. I'll give it my all, nonetheless!


	8. Fallen Embers

“Well, that was intense,” Chase said, leaning towards Aria in her seat on the back of the truck.

“It was,” Aria replied, keeping her eyes on the road in front of them.

Thankfully, Donny was sitting between her and Stiglitz.

If anything happened, at least there was the all of a man to protect them.

The tension was there.

As much as one would expect with a lone Jerry in a vehicle with mostly Jews.

It was even more unnerving that said Jerry did nothing. He just sat there while they cruised down this dirt path at 100 mph.

_This was going to take a lot of getting used to..._ Aria thought. _If he doesn’t kill us first, anyway._

The day was uneventful for the most part.

The Basterds came across some enemy soldiers along the way, who were promptly shot before they could even see the Americans had taken over the Protze.

By nightfall, they camped out in a small clearing, staying under the branches in case the Luftwaffe flew overhead.

With Donny and Chase in front of the fire again, Aria sat at the base of a tree. It was just the right location: enough to distance herself from the couple, but not far from the other men.

Stiglitz had the same idea, it seemed.

Looking up from her journal, she saw him under the withering branches of a nearby tree. His back was pushed against the bark and his knees pointed towards the sky. The light from the fire silhouetted his left side.

Her fingers loosened the grip around her pencil as she observed him.

She couldn’t tell if he had fallen asleep or not. His eyes were closed but his chest wasn’t moving.

For some unknown reason, she started taking note of his uniform, comparing it to the ones she’d seen on other soldiers. His was void of any rank. His greenish-gray jacket and pants, paired with a blue button-up shirt had nothing remarkable on it. That is, with the exception of the Reichsadler above the left breast pocket. A shadow of his former allegiance. 

_Stay away_ , Aria reminded herself. _He could kill any of us at any time._

There was movement on his leg.

Initially, Aria attributed this to the waving flames of the campfire casting shadows that wither in size.

Upon closer inspection, she saw that it was his foot. The toe of his boot tapped on the ground in an almost inaudible _pat, pat, pat, pat_.

When looking at his face, she froze.

Her gaze was met with two icy blue irises.

“Oh,” she squeaked low enough so that only she could hear it.

She drew her attention back to what she’d already written.

> _Waiting for the next day to come. If it comes. Who knows? No one does. I sure don’t. I just hope I fall asleep soon. It’s not so easy when a Kraut’s sitting right by me. Somehow the Lieutenant thought this was a good idea? I respect Lt. Raine, but think about it: Stiglitz wants to kill Nazis, too. But how does Raine know he isn’t going to kill us all and go off_

She continued,

> _on his own after? Wait, he can’t do it all himself. The Allies made their way here already. Anyway the more_

The granite nub skidded off the page when Aria sensed something.

She nearly jumped when she was face-to-face with Stiglitz.

He was squatting an arms-length away, but it scared her nonetheless.

“Do you have a light?” he asked, cigarette in hand.

Blinking through the silence, she parted her lips to speak.

“I... I don’t smoke,” she stuttered.

His face unmoving, he gave her a small nod and was about to turn away from her to ask the others, but she continued.

“But I have a lighter in my bag.”

While she didn’t smoke, she found it useful to carry a light. She didn’t know when she’d need it, but the time could come. Plus, the Basterds smoke. They were out here for God knows how long and lighter fluid didn’t come from the rain, thus making her a supplier if need be. That was probably the closest they’d get to liking her, anyway.

His eyebrows perked and he waited for her to fish it out.

She moved some supplies out of the way and reached into a pocket stitched on the back, pulling out a silver Zippo. With a flick of her thumb, she popped the lid off with a _clink_ and cranked the gear to summon the flame.

Stiglitz leaned over, cigarette between his lips, and held the tip over the fire. His hand brushed over her knuckles, sending a spark up her arm. (Or was that just a fallen ember?)

She lowered her hand when he pulled back into the darkness around them.

He pinched the paper rod from his lips, turned his head away from her and exhaled, letting the smoke pour from his nose.

“Thank you...” his voice trailed, hoping she would finish the sentence with an introduction.

Not catching on, she smiled a little. “You’re welcome.”

She went back to her journal, but saw through her eyelashes that he hadn’t moved.

“Sergeant?” she looked up.

“What’s your name?” he asked, rather bluntly.

Taken aback by this, she answered meekly.

“Aria.”

His lips formed a tight line, then loosened so he could take another drag.

Again, he blew the smoke away from her direction.

“Thank you, Aria,” he nodded.

She watched as he stood up and made his way back to his tree.

Aria continued her entry:

> _the more dead Nazis, the better._


	9. Dirt

The next morning, Aria went to turn on her side, but felt something on top of her. When she moved some more, there was some rustling of leaves. She froze, eyes still closed. Her heart was pumping so loud, she was certain whoever was near could hear it. She waited some more, listening for anything: footsteps, breathing...

Nothing.

 _The men haven’t left me, right?_ She asked herself, praying for a light sleeper, like Wicki, or someone with a keen sense of hearing, like Kagan, to confirm her suspicion by shooting at whoever’s there.

At the same time, she didn’t want it to be real.

Her ears being met with nothing but her own heavy breathing, she opened her eyes, shut them again to block out the light, then saw some piles of leaves scattered at the base of the trees around her.

She sat up and looked to her side, where a brown blanket had fallen past her arm.

“Mornin’.”

She squinted up at Aldo towering over her, wearing a gray sweater.

“M-Morning, sir,” she looked down to hide her pink cheeks as she matted down her tousled hair.

Why did she suddenly care, though? He’s seen them all wake up. Hell, he’s probably heard her snore.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked as a couple others began to stir under the leaves.

“Good. You?” Aria yawned and threw her arms out to stretch.

“Good,” he smiled and squatted down so he was leveled with her face. “You had your coat off. Seemed you didn’t fancy it as a blanket, so I gave you mine.”

Aria pulled the blanket up and saw the sleeves. It was, indeed, Aldo’s coat.

“Thank you,” she smiled a little and handed it back to him. 

He took it, stood up and slipped it on. Buttoning it up and buckling the belt, he addressed the group.

“Rise ‘n shine, y’all,” he put his hand to his hips and went over to a still-sleeping Hirschberg. “You too, sleepin’ beauty,” the lieutenant nudged Hirschberg’s leg with the toe of his boot, only to be met with a groan.

“Grab yourselves some breakfast,” Aldo continued. “Hopefully, we can find some real grub for lunch later.” 

The men and women pulled their breakfast boxes from their pants pockets, removing the sleeves and digging into the cans of meat and eggs. 

Aria bit into one of the wrapped biscuits and looked for Stiglitz.

He had his legs stretched out in front of him, craned his neck to the side and opened his eyes to see a hand holding out a tin can.

He took it, a hint of hesitation on his face and turned to the recipient.

Aria nodded as a sign of approval before returning to her can of ham. Instead of crawling back to where her tree was, she sat next to him, placing the carton on the ground between them so they can share the crackers.

* * *

During the mid-morning march through the woods, Chase whispered to Aria.

“So Aldo gave you his coat...”

Wide-eyed, Aria hissed. “Someone’s gonna hear!”

She wasn’t buying whatever Chase was suggesting and she didn’t want any seeds of it to be planted in the Basterds’ heads.

Not that they would care anyway. In fact, they would wholeheartedly disagree.

While they weren’t ordered to, the men formed a fortress around the two. Three men walked side-by-side in front, another three behind them and one on each side of the women facing out. Aldo lead the team all the way up front.

“They can’t hear me,” Chase scoffed.

“Whatever you think it means isn’t true,” Aria whispered.

“Then why are you blushing?” Chase teased.

The nurse took her hands out of her pockets, placing her fingertips over her cheeks.

“Ha! You _weren’t_ , but you thought you were. If it doesn’t mean anything, why would you be blushing?” Chase threw her a smug grin.

“That doesn’t even make sense...” Aria grumbled.

“It makes perfect sense,” Chase countered.

Honestly, while she knew deep down Aldo was just looking out for her—like he would any of the others—she was beginning to warm to the idea of him taking extra care of her.

In truth, she found him quite attractive. She wasn’t sure if it was the accent or the way he parted his hair to the side. Was it his leadership abilities or the way he smiled when they made accidental eye contact?

“Whatever. We can’t,” Aria shook her head and focused on the back of Omar’s head. 

“Why not? Unless you got someone else in—“ Chase was cut off by gunshots.

Omar stopped in front of them and started shooting at a tree a mile away. 

Aria jumped, got behind Sakowitz, who was to her immediate right, before seeking refuge behind the nearest tree. 

The Basterds split up and hid behind the trees parallel to the path they were on.

Zimmerman peeked out but quickly pulled his head back in time to send a bullet past him. 

Utivich attempted the same and was able to gun down both of the Germans waiting for them.

“Stay low,” Aldo ordered.

They all crouched down, each person moving from behind one tree to the one in front.

With no sound from the other side, Aldo gave the all clear to rejoin. They approached the bodies—two privates. 

“Looks like it was just a patrol,” Utivich said.

“Or something bigger is coming,” Chase suggested.

* * *

“How many we got back there?” Aldo asked Hirschberg and Stiglitz. 

“Four,” the latter stood to the side.

He kept his gun pointed at the prisoners while Stiglitz told them to kneel with their hands behind their heads.

One of them saw Aria some feet away, tending to Wicki’s wounds.

“Herman,” the prisoner jabbed his raised elbow against his friend’s. “Da drüben.”

Herman followed his friend’s gaze and started snickering. 

“Das ist deine freundin, Herman,” the first Kraut joked. “Du magst Schweine, ja?”

Before Herman could reply, Stiglitz put a bullet through the instigator’s head. The slain man fell to the ground on his side, right in front of Herman, who was now in hysterics.

“Three,” Stiglitz corrected, coldly. 

“Save your ammo, boys,” Aldo advised. “Never know who’ll talk.” 

From where she sat, Aria looked back to Wicki. “Wonder what that was all about...”

He simply shrugged and tipped his head to the side so Aria could disinfect the area on his neck.

“Luckily, it was just some shrapnel. Nothing serious,” she commented. 

“Just sit here, relax and look pretty,” Aria added, patching him up and turning her attention to Kagan and Utivich.

“Already there,” Wicki leaned back against a rock; his legs out and crossed in front of him while he rested his eyes. 

His eyelids peeled back when he heard Aldo call Chase over.

“Ask him if he wants to live,” Aldo ordered, not taking his eyes off the prisoner in front of them.

“Willst du leben?” Chase translated.

Aria looked over at Chase. The German flowed effortlessly from her lips. Her gray newsboy cap concealed her shoulder-length brown hair, with the exception of the strands framing her freckled cheeks. Both her coat and boots were dirty, having just fallen to the ground behind some bushes to stall the marching troops. 

Wicki looked at her, pure awe and admiration in his eyes.

Utivich now out of earshot, Aria sat closer to the Austrian. 

“You really like her, don’t you?” she smiled sadly.

Wicki mirrored the facial expression as Aldo kept the interrogation going.

He nodded. “I was simply too late.” 

“Maybe one day something will bring you both together,” Aria placed her hand on Wicki’s shoulder.

She half-expected him to shake it off, but he didn’t. 

Aria never kept a secret. It wasn’t because she loved to gossip; she just didn’t have any meaningful relationships that involved such a sacred thing. 

She wasn’t going to tell Wicki what Chase said to her about how much she loves him. She wasn’t going to tell him that Chase has expressed regret over losing Wicki as a potential lover. She wasn’t going to tell him anything, even if the lines around his lips set into his skin as if he’d gained and lost something at the same time.

Instead, Aria thought about how much she longed for someone to feel this way about _her_. She wanted to be viewed as a gem. Being with the Basterds—while better than being with her old company—told her one thing: she was dirt.

 _Crack!_

Everyone who wasn’t within reach of the prisoners turned their head towards the large figure with a baseball bat standing over the bloody, beaten corpse of a loyal soldier.


End file.
